Life Has Killed the Dream
by medras
Summary: Yet another Harry Potter/Inception story in which Eames is Slytherin, Dom is Gryffindor and they're still friends. Somewhere along the line, Legilimency is used in exactly the way you would expect, Mal invades Dom's classes and Michael Caine teaches DADA.
1. Modern Magical History

Dominic Cobb can't seem to convince his jaw to close again. He knows it's been able to close at some point previous. In fact, he's got plenty of memories of his mouth firmly and completely closed.

"Firs' years follow me!"

A booming voice makes Dom nearly jump out of his unfamiliar robes. Dom twists to see a man about the size of his house wearing a trench coat being used as a regular jacket. He smells faintly of leather and the tumbleweed of whitish gray hair making up his hair and beard make Dom think of a crazy old witch. Or wizard, technically.

"Yer a firs' year, righ', lad?" the large man nods at Dom,

Dom nods back, jaw finally snapping closed.

"Righ', well best follow me, then,"

The large man stomps-for that's the only kind of way you can move when you're as large a man as Hagrid- off in a different direction than most of the other students.

A few other First Years jostle past Dom. One who looks Asian sneers at Dom and (probably) curses at him as he passes. Dom is too shell-shocked to be offended, though. He leaves his trunk where the rest of the First Years have and when he reaches the edge of the lake, nearly looses control of his jaw again. He climbs into the small boat with three other boys and they all gawk at the glowing and, quite literally, magical castle before them.

When they're sheparded into the Great Hall, Dom doesn't even notice the ceiling because he's too close to the front of the line.

"Cobb, Dominic!" a woman who might be the definition of a witch shrills,

Dom marches forward, not quite remembering how to walk, and falls onto the stool. The Sorting Hat falls half-way over his face,

_Another Muggleborn, eh?_ it's crackly voice says into his head,

Dom sits ramrod straight, now.

_Don't get too scared there, I might sort you into Hufflepuff,_

Dom has no idea what a Hufflepuff is, but he's old enough to know a threat when he hears one.

_Alright, not Hufflepuff but..._

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A roar erupts from the red and gold lion table so Dom knows where to sit.

* * *

On his first day of classes, Dom gets horribly lost and ends up running into one of the school ghosts. After that, he gets to Transfigurations in record time. McGonagal gives him a glare meant to kill late students and Dom decides that ghosts aren't so scary after all.

Potions, he figures, can't possibly end worse than Transfigurations had. So of course, it's much worse. Snape is a terror to the Gryffindors and the Slytherins smirk through the whole lesson. Snape's lessons are 70% insulting Gryffindors and 30% making ridiculous hyperboles.

Dom has no hope for History of Magic. Luckily, Binns surpasses his hopes of being nearly bored to death because at the end of class, Dom's sure he's in Limbo.

As the day slips by, Dom discovers that Sprouts and Flitwick are engaging teachers, but he's ass at both Herbology and Charms. He lacks the basic knowledge that most of the First Years from Wizarding families already have. Dom sits with the other Muggleborns at lunch and has fun daring the others to try strange wizarding foods.

Dom's hopes are crushed again in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When he expected to absolutely hate a class about Dark Magic, he's surprised again. Caine reminds him of Bruce Wayne's butler without the glasses and within five minutes, Defense is his favorite class. Caine's nurturing and actually spends time helping the Muggleborns instead of praising the Wizarding children for what they already know. They learn a basic shielding spell and Dom doesn't stop smiling until he's dared to eat something that actually burns its way down his throat during dinner.

* * *

While Dom is in the Hospital Wing- a fact he is only druggedly aware of, he dreams that he's at a summer party from his childhood.

The grass green bleeds into the sky and the wind blows the sunshine to him. It was his sister's party, he remembers later, but in the dream it doesn't matter whose party it is. There are gifts lined up in front of him. White boxes tied with neat blue bows, each the same size. He's sitting on a white picnic blanket, one edge chases the wind Dom can't feel. The presents are blowing away. He wants to chase them. A woman with copper brown hair and gray glowing eyes forces him to stop and stare. She holds a present he knows is for him. It's identical to the rest of the presents, still white, still neat and blue. She hands it to him when he doesn't remember being so close to her and he knows it's lighter than the other presents, even if he's never held any of the others. He opens it and it whispers to him. He repeats the word back into the empty box, the words forming soundlessly on his lips.

He has the impression of a promise behind his teeth.


	2. Achievements in Charming

Dom sits in the same empty classroom he's spent most of his free time in for the past year and a half. He's got his Charms book open in his lap and his feet up on a desk, making deep dents in the dust.

He feels a chill creep up his spine,

"Not now, Mal," Dom smiles, "I have an exam tomorrow!"

"You _told_ me," Mal pretends to whine, "but you've been studying for hours already."

Mal sticks her head over Dom's shoulder to get a better look at his textbook. Her hair ghosts across his face and Dom suppresses a shudder. In the middle of praying that Mal hadn't noticed, she smiles sidelong at him and deliberately tucks the offending lock behind her ear.

"You're on the same page you were an hour ago," she points out,

He blushes up the back of his neck. Mal's laugh floats with her to the back of the room. Dom scowls and turns the page angrily.

It's entirely too soon before two brown-haired Slytherins crash into his classroom, panting and giggling.

"O, hullo there, Dom," the larger Slytherin smirks, "Didn't know you'd be in here,"

Dom glares at Eames as he bends to pick up his Charms book,

"Of course you did." Dom replies wryly,

Eames shrugs and throws himself into the nearest chair, draping himself over the back. Arthur pulls out a chair, somewhere between them and sits neatly.

"I hope no one saw you come in here," Dom continues, removing the crease from a page,

Eames smirks again, but Arthur's solemn head-shake 'no' reassures Dom.

Dom had been surprised Arthur had been sorted into Slytherin. Eames, he can understand. Eames is slick and rude and everything a Slytherin is supposed to be. But Arthur is infinitely thorough, sharp as a knife (an expression most wizards don't understand, as it is) and a terrible liar.

"Hello, Arthur, Eames." Mal appears behind Dom again,

"Mal! You're looking radiant today," Eames eyes Mal,

"Eames!" Arthur scolds,

Dom looks horrified. Eames looks rather pleased with himself. Mal rolls her eyes at the boys,

"Honestly, Eames, you can't expect something so predictable to be offending," Mal chides,

"I have to try, love," Eames grins back,

"You really don't." Dom growls, sending Eames a sharp look over his textbook,

"Your girlfriend isn't offended, Dom. Don't get your panties in a bunch over nothing," Eames winks at Mal,

"She's not- I mean, we're not-I'm..." Dom stutters,

"I think you broke him," Mal giggles,

"In that case, happy birthday, darling," Eames beams, only being partially facetious,

Dom drops his textbook on the desk.

"Oh! Speaking of birthdays, we got you a present, Mal," Arthur grins,

Arthur produces a book from his robes and places it in front of Mal.

As she peers down at it, the cover suddenly flies open, shuffling past the first few blank pages.

"We hope you like it." Arthur says shortly,

"What Arthur's trying to say, darling, is that we know how absolutely _bored_ you get being around Dom all the time, so we-"

"_I_" Arthur interrupts Eames,

"Right. Of course, Arthur. Wouldn't dream of not giving credit where credit is due," Eames rolls his eyes at the other boy, "_Arthur_ charmed the book to turn the page as soon as you finish reading it,"

"And," Arthur cuts in, "It's a library book, so you don't have to worry about finding somewhere to put it. We can do the charm on another book when you're done with this one."

"Oh! Thank you, boys!" Mal grins,

She reads another page experimentally and chuckles when the page turns on its own.

"Oh. Looks like we lost Dom," Eames comments snidely.

Arthur just smirks.

"Foolish boy," Mal mutters darkly, "He always feels the need to get me something useless. Like I have anywhere to keep it,"

Mal gestures around the dusty classroom, marked only by footprints left by the three boys. There are a few knickknacks bright against the general sepia tone of the classroom, probably Dom's previous presents.

"You know him, love," Eames sighs, "He tries too hard. He's like Arthur-"

"Eames!"

"-But less thoughtful,"

Arthur grits his teeth but doesn't say anything. The slight twitch in his eye tells Eames Arthur's trying not to smile.

* * *

When Dom returns, badly wrapped present in hand, it's only barely before curfew.

He eases the door open, spelling it shut after him. Arthur's reading in a transfigured armchair. It takes Dom a moment to find Eames because he's draped across Arthur's lap, snoring lightly. Mal's not far from them, hovering over her new book, the pages rustling quietly in time with Arthur's page turns. Her lips tug slightly every time the page turns by itself and Dom thinks he's completely pathetic for feeling the way he does about her. Warm and fuzzy. He takes a shaky breath,

"Mal,"

Mal looks slightly surprised when she sees Dom back. Dom shyly unwraps the letter and holds it out for Mal, not able to look at her while she reads it. Suddenly, Mal's kissing him. And it feels nothing like it should. The kiss is foggy and cold and not _human_. Arthur clears his throat, shocking the pair apart and rousing Eames. Mal takes one look at Dom's face and before he can say anything, she's shot through him and the wall behind him.

"You _really_ screwed the pooch on that one, darling," Eames yawns, stretching and purposefully knocking into Arthur's book,

Dom swallows heavily and stuffs the letter he had written into his pocket.

Arthur snaps his book closed, nearly catching Eames' hand.

"We should go," Arthur says with a pointed look at Eames, "It's almost curfew,"

Eames levers himself out of the chair, offering Arthur his hand once he's up.

"She'll be back," Arthur offers, pausing in the doorway,

Dom nods, still not able to lift his gaze from the floor. Unable to shake the feeling that he's just permanently alienated his best friend.

"Just...don't sleep here," Arthur adds before disappearing. Dom doesn't hear the door click shut behind him or his watch alarm go off, telling him it's well past curfew. Mal doesn't come back that night.


End file.
